


Long Distance

by morbid_beauty



Series: Kinda but Not Really Near Canon BDSM AU [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Collars, Consensual Violence, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Sexual Consent Play, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbid_beauty/pseuds/morbid_beauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the media looming over Frank's new collar, his relationship with Jamia becomes strained. Gerard steps in when Jamia is too far away to discipline Frank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Important note about the tag "Non-Sexual Consent Play": While the consent play mostly happens within a session, it is not necessarily sexual (i.e. not rape play).
> 
> Anyway, finally got around to writing part 2! This can be read without reading the previous part but it is a continuation.

"So! Elephant in the room. I see you got a training collar since the last time you were here, Frankie."

The blonde MuchMusic host, who herself was collarless, got a roaring cheer from the crowd for her comment. Frank beamed with pride. Damn fucking right he had a training collar. It always amused him when people noticed. It meant he belonged somewhere, to someone, and there was someone waiting when he went home. Someone had chosen him and he was theirs and everybody knew.

Frank's bandmates smiled, mostly. Gerard wasn't all there, but he usually wasn't when he couldn't steal the spotlight away. Oh well.

"Yeah, happened a few months ago," Frank said, trying to write it off with a shrug but holy crap he was in love.

"You can't seem to stop smiling, how sweet!" the interviewer said. "And who's the lucky fella?"

"Her name's Jamia," said Frank, turning to and waving at the camera. "Hi, baby. Miss you."

"Oh, cool, I'm a switch too!" said the interviewer.

"Jamia is not a switch," Gerard scoffed.

The interviewer's eyebrows went up. She looked shocked but like she was trying to keep it together; she was gaping on live television and Frank was very suddenly appalled by her reaction. "Oh, right," she said, laughing it off. She pointedly looked away from Frank and at the rest of the band. "So, you guys are doing Warped Tour..."

It was the first time during that week of interviews Jamia was mentioned and by no means the last. It wasn't even about Frank being collared anymore, something that Frank quickly stopped enjoying flaunting. It was about the fact that he was collared by a self-proclaimed female domme. And with My Chemical Romance skyrocketing into the spotlight, so did Frank's "peculiar" relationship.

At its rudest, it was: "So, Frankie, you've got yourself a female domme! How's that working for ya? Ever think about throwing that collar away?"

And at its subtlest: "You guys definitely try to challenge social boundaries and expectations with your band and even in your lives outside the band. Congratulations, Frank, by the way."

It sparked debates about women domming men instead of other women (though none about men subbing for women, as Mikey helpfully pointed out). Frank wasn't even annoyed by how embarrassing or rude it all was to him. He was annoyed by how Jamia was being treated in the forums she helped run for the band's website. The second he heard about her getting harassed, he posted a PSA on the website about respect.

"I can handle it, Frank," Jamia insisted by the end of the gruelling week. "I'm the domme here, remember?"

It was their bi-daily video chat and Frank was stressed. He toyed with his collar, rubbing the skin underneath, constantly adjusting it so the D was directly in the center of his throat down to the last atom. Frank nodded because he knew she was right but he couldn't shake how frustrated the whole situation made him. He looked around the bus lounge (they had a bus now, holy crap) as if he'd find something to calm him down. He wanted Jamia.

"Baby, look at me," she said. Frank glanced down at the video. Jamia was so fucking beautiful and so fucking far away. "I'm okay. Are you?"

He wasn't supposed to lie. "No, ma'am," Frank said. Jamia's eyebrows went right up. They were usually rather casual; the title wasn't necessary unless they were having a session so it punctuated just how stressed Frank was. "I mean, the band is going places and that's amazing!" he said, running his fingers haphazardly through his hair. "But people are focusing less on the music and the message and more on you and me. And now they're harassing you, ma'am, and I don't want to be responsible for-"

"You are not responsible for what is happening and you have to take a few deep breaths right now," Jamia said, raising her voice. Frank did as told. "Now. I can handle it. People will stop talking about it eventually. In the meantime, to draw attention away from it and to help people focus more on the band...you could take off the collar in interviews and stuff. I give you permission."

Frank gasped, visibly convulsed, and brought his hand to his throat. "No, ma'am!" he said. "I want to wear it always."

Jamia smiled a little. "You're very sweet. But I don't want you to be stressed over this. When I'm on the road with you guys in a few weeks, you can wear it always. I'll be there for you so if anyone has anything to say they can say it to me."

Frank blinked at the screen. A part of him knew Jamia had a point and it really wouldn't hurt to take off the collar when in public or on stage or on TV. But there had been a problem with the collaring before. Jamia was unsure about doing it right before this last tour, which is why they'd gone for the more subtle training collar without the ceremony. They were basically ready for the formal collar but she wanted to wait until she could be with him so that those first few weeks or months, they could be together. It's been months now and they haven't seen each other much at all. Was this too much for her? Had he messed up in wanting this commitment sooner?

"Do you regret collaring me?" Frank asked.

Jamia took a deep breath and smiled. "No," she said tersely.

She'd hesitated. It was insincere. He needed her so badly but he felt unwanted now on top of being angry at everyone he's met in the past week. He fiddled with his collar, tugging it back and forth with his middle finger in the ring.

"Please be honest, ma'am?" Frank said.

"I think we should've waited," Jamia said, her voice soft like when Frank disagreed with her. "It would've made the transition easier. You rely on me a lot more now and I'm not around. That's hard on us both. But we'll make it work, okay? I just wanna know that you're alright."

But Frank was barely listening. He was still pissed at all the interviewers and everyone harassing Jamia. Now he was pissed at her and at himself. Let's throw society in. He clenched his jaw, avoiding looking at the screen. This was so fucked. He wanted to go back to Jersey. He wanted to punch someone in the face. Even the training collar was too much for her?

"Frankie?" Jamia said. "I didn't mean to upset you more."

"You want the collar off, I'll take the collar off," Frank murmured. He reached to the back of his neck. "It's only a training collar anyway."

"Frank, you know it means more to both of us than that."

"Really, ma'am? Because you're being a shitty domme telling me that you don't want a commitment..."

Frank realized what he was saying, hands on the clasp at the back of his neck, and froze. Jamia's face had fallen. With shaking hands he started fiddling with undoing the latch.

"That is not what I meant," Jamia said, stern in a way he rarely heard her. "You know that. It's hard enough with how much younger we are than people think we should be for you to have my collar. I love you, Frankie, and I..."

Jamia's speech was cut short when Frank showed her the collar, held in his hand in front of the screen. He set it aside and rubbed his neck. He didn't have to wear it around anyone but her so he wouldn't, if that was what she wanted. Just because he liked to flaunt it didn't mean it was the right thing to do.

"I'll only wear it around you, then," Frank said a little bitterly. "Does that work for you, ma'am?"

"You are making me very unhappy right now, Frankie," said Jamia.

"Good. I have to go."

"Don't you dare-"

But Frank ended the video chat before she could say more. He closed his laptop and walked out to the front of the bus where everyone else was, hands shaking. They'd never gotten into a fight like that. What had he done? Could he ever do something to fix it and please her again? Would she no longer want to be his domme?

"Frank, are you okay?" Ray asked. "Where's your--"

Frank just shook his head, not wanting to hear it. He sat at the table where Bob and Mikey were holding hands. Across from them, Gerard and Ray watched in confusion. Frank explained, in slow and few words, that he and Jamia had gotten into a fight over what the collar meant and when he should wear it and how Jamia felt about it, all because of every stupid interviewer and that one shitty MTV news article. They assured him, in turn, that they were still in the training phase and stuff like this tended to happen - not often, Gerard helpfully pointed out, but they did.

"She was going to give me a formal collar," Frank admitted. Ray audibly gasped. Everyone else's faces fell. "I know we're supposed to push each other but we think we're so ready for the formal one. What if we're not? What if it just doesn't work out?"

None of the others had ever gotten this far in a committed relationship. They stayed quiet. Frank covered his face with his hands.

***

Frank kept the collar in his pocket at shows and in public and toyed with it during interviews, under his hoodie in his lap. If anyone asked, Mikey's protective dom half very sharply told the interviewer to move on (it worked impeccably well on subs). Jamia called once and Frank didn't answer. When he called, she didn't answer. It had been three days since the fight. He'd spent the first night with Bob, the last two with Mikey. He referred to every dom with a title even if they didn't need or want one and they let him get away with it because they knew he needed it. It wasn't enough. 10,000 miles away meant Frank couldn't get a session to fix this. Although ignoring and avoiding his girlfriend was admittedly a bad way of dealing with it.

He really didn't give Jamia enough credit though.

On that fourth night, they were staying at a hotel. They had a few days between shows and a nice city to settle in so why not? Dom Bob and switch Mikey had sacrificed some sessions for him already and there was no way they were passing up a hotel night, no matter how badly he needed a dom. So Frank would either stay with Ray or Gerard or both in a room, which he did not want. It ended up being just Gerard because Ray found a dom at a club to spend the night with.

Frank was lying in bed, holding the collar to his neck experimentally, when his phone rang. He practically tripped over his feet running to his bag but Gerard, fresh out of the shower and with a towel around his waist, got to the phone quicker as he was standing right next to it.

"Hello?" Gerard said. "Yeah, I'm with him." Frank gave Gerard a pleading look. "You want to talk to _me_?"

Frank groaned and stepped back, sitting on the bed. Gerard continued the conversation with whom Frank recognized as Jamia, even with her voice muffled and ten feet away.

"Uh-huh..." Gerard said, solemnly. "Yeah, he does... Sure. Well, if he..." A longer pause, in which Gerard's eyebrows knitted together thoughtfully and he nodded over and over. "Of course. I do things differently, though... Cool... Sure, hold on."

Gerard offered Frank the phone and Frank ran for it again, holding it close to his ear and turning away for Gerard to put on clothes.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Frank said immediately. "I-I know my actions reflected badly on you and that I was d-disrespectful of y-your authority, ma'am. I o-only hope you'll be w-willing to offer me your discipline and g-guidance once again."

Gerard scoffed. Never had Frank sounded so subby in his life. It was really desperation that drove him to begging; he wasn't a fan of that, generally. He just didn't want to lose Jamia (as much as everyone seemed to be convinced he wouldn't). At any rate, it was definitely more than Frank would normally give and the long, heavy sigh from Jamia indicated that clearly it was more than she expected.

"If you would still like to be mine, I will gladly continue giving you my care," Jamia said. Frank nodded, biting his nails. "However, you need to understand that you have upset me greatly. You insulted me, you disrespected the commitment of that collar, and you avoided me after all of that." Then, slipping out of domme-mode, "You hurt my feelings, Frank, and you did it intentionally."

"I know, I know," Frank grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"So you will be severely punished. And since I'm not there with you, the punishment will start with Gerard."

Frank looked back at Gerard, who was in his pajamas now. He glanced at Frank and walked over to the bed. The thing is that Gerard was way more intense than what Frank was used to with Jamia, more into humiliation while Jamia was very much about discipline. Frank kinda liked it, though. Especially now with where he was emotionally. He needed to feel too much and he wanted to feel a little bad. He felt hopeful, for a second, that this could actually help. Gerard could not replace Jamia but that had never been an option.

"Does that sound good for you?" Jamia said.

"Yes, ma'am," Frank said, already relaxing.

"Good. Now, he and I will plan a session for you. In the meantime, treat him as your dom like you did before - your on-the-road dom. Do as he says."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I am still very upset with and disappointed in you," said Jamia. Frank closed his eyes. "I will see you in a couple weeks and we will finish your punishment then."

"Yes, ma'am."

They said their goodnights and Frank crawled into bed with Gerard, who held him close and kissed his head. "It's gonna be fine," Gerard said.

"I hope so, sir," Frank replied.

"You know I don't like titles."

And so it began.

***

Being a loaned sub was not particularly difficult. Gerard was mild; asked Frank to fetch things, teased him, occasionally pushed him into things. It wasn't something Frank ever really experienced, not even with Gerard in the last session they did, so it took some getting used to. He was quickly compliant and never said red though yellow came up a few times, when he got really uncomfortable.

"It's just, you know, I fucking know I'm short," Frank grumbled. "Stop comparing me to mythical creatures please?"

"No, the elf thing was for the ugliness," Gerard insisted. "You're not _that_ self-conscious about your face, are you?"

Gerard didn't get it. He was a good person, a great artist, a good fuck. He wasn't a very good dom, not for Frank. Mikey even claimed he was a secret switch, or a sub trying to be a dom, but that was a level of existential crisis that Frank couldn't handle. Frank understood that part of the punishment was that he would be uncomfortable and he appreciated that. But he was having trouble letting it happen, after just the way the past two weeks had gone.

"Can I put on my collar, ma'am?" Frank asked in a timid phone call at some point that first day.

"Of course!" Jamia said.

It did make things easier, the reminder that he was Jamia's. Gerard fed Frank, made him ask for everything (using the bathroom, getting a drink), had Frank sit at his feet, gripped his arm if he was walking too fast, pushed him if he walked too slow, smacked him if he said something Gerard thought was out of line or dumb. It was exhausting but definitely felt good, falling asleep next to Gerard and feeling belonging to someone. He reported it all to Jamia.

It wasn't until days later at a different hotel in a different city did the session happen. The three of them had discussed it (in sparse detail; they all wanted some of it to be a surprise) and Frank was parts nervous, parts excited. Between the toys and consent play, along with Gerard's usual manner, Frank was jittery for it to happen. He entered the room he shared with Gerard after hanging out with the rest of the band after the show. Gerard was lying on the bed reading a book.

"You have three minutes to shower," Gerard said. Frank stood there, startled. Gerard glanced up. "Starting now."

Frank took off his clothes on the way to the bathroom and jumped into the shower immediately, turning on the water before closing the curtain. It took too long to warm up but he needed to get the suds going so he grabbed a bar of soap and quickly, half-assed a shower. He was shivering and probably still soapy when he came out, shaking with the adrenaline as he dried himself. Gerard stared at him and waited until Frank tossed the towel away. He stood up, very suddenly then, after a glance at the watch on his wrist; he walked right up to Frank and smacked him hard across the face, throwing his head to the side.

"That was six minutes," Gerard said.

Frank was utterly shocked. He blinked a few times to try and process, try and remember what kind of dom Gerard was and how he should behave to comply. He could only think of how to act with Jamia, though, he missed her so bad. "I'm sorry, s-" he said, interrupting himself when he realized it was wrong.

"Fuck yourself," Gerard said. Frank gaped helplessly. "Jamia's rule is I still can't fuck you so you do it."

Gerard waved at the bed, where that blue dildo lay next to a bottle of lube and a condom. Frank stepped over and Gerard's foot came out, making him trip and fall to his knees. Gerard reprimanded him for falling so soon after a shower and ignored Frank's apology, choosing instead to insult him and demand he crawl to the bed.

"Like the dirty boy you are," Gerard said.

It was exhilarating, oddly. Frank shuffled to the bed, picked up the lube and dildo, lubed up two fingers first. He leaned over the mattress and fucked himself, slowly guiding his fingers in. Gerard was oddly quiet. He was the kind to dictate every move but, evidently, he didn't often see Frank's ass anymore so he just wanted to watch. It worked for Frank. When he was open enough, he rolled the condom onto the dildo and slicked it up, pushed it into himself. He fucked himself shallowly, free hand gripping the sheets as he rested his head on the mattress.

"Deeper," Gerard said. Frank fucked himself deeper but slowed, arm straining. "Faster." Frank tried for faster, curving his back and moving his hips down with the movements of the fake cock. He was gasping, getting more worked up the more he moved, and he was so ready to touch himself. "Don't stop and don't touch yourself." Frank whined low in his throat. He heard Gerard moving around the room. He was getting tired but the last thing he could do was stop now. He kept at it, growing more worn out in this awkward position, until he felt Gerard kneeling behind him. He whined again when Gerard fisted his cock, stroking him to a full erection. Then Gerard rolled something foreign yet familiar onto Frank's cock, down to the base and around the scrotum. "Stop," said Gerard.

Frank removed the dildo, hissing sharply, and looked down, frowning at the cock ring he now had on. Gerard gingerly removed the condom from the toy then grasped Frank's hair with one hand, his wrist with the other, and forced Frank's head back. Frank made a displeased sound as Gerard brought the dildo to his lips but still opened his mouth. Gerard shoved the fake cock into Frank's mouth swiftly, not stopping until Frank gagged, and using that as an indication of how deeply to go as he started fucking his mouth. Frank gagged repeatedly as the toy hit his throat, overwhelmed by Gerard's sudden force but quickly relaxing to the rhythmic, albeit rough, thrusts into his mouth. His own grip on the cock tightened, other hand curling into the sheets; Gerard murmured something Frank didn't quite catch then snatched the dildo from his mouth and threw it onto the mattress. Frank doubled over immediately and started coughing. He gasped, experimentally moving his jaw.

"Get up," Gerard said. Frank knew that if he didn't comply right away there'd be repercussions, but he was adjusting to how fast everything had just happened, how haphazard and almost careless Gerard was compared to Jamia. He'd only just decided he was liking it when Gerard tugged his ear back and Frank hissed as he got to his feet, turning to face his temporary dom with his hands at his sides.

"You're almost ready for your beating," Gerard said, sizing Frank up. Frank had never had it called that but he moaned softly at the word. "You just need to do a couple more things for me."

"Like what?" Frank asked shyly.

He noticed Gerard had a hand behind his back. Another surprise? Gerard touched Frank's collar with one finger then lowered his hand, slowly, to Frank's left nipple. Frank sucked in a breath as Gerard fondled him, rubbing and twisting and pulling the nub and alternately scratching his tattoo of Jamia's name. Surely enough when Frank's nipple was about as hard as it could get, Gerard revealed what was in his other hand: nipple clamps. He took one end to Frank's left nipple, held it and twisted it in (surprisingly not too tight), and gave the other nipple the same treatment. Frank moved his hands behind his back, stretching the chain between the clamps with the expansion of his chest, and Gerard laughed.

"Not tight enough for you?" Gerard asked.

"No?" Frank said, unsure of how honest Gerard wanted him to be. He recalled Gerard enjoyed having control over the dialogue, something Frank could never quite get used to, but Gerard had to have learned from Jamia that yes tighter was better.

Gerard narrowed his eyes and showed Frank the third end of the nipple clamps that he'd not noticed before, jiggling the chain before getting close to Frank's face. It was so odd that Gerard was still fully clothed, in a black t-shirt and jeans of all things, but they kissed like there was nothing at all out of the ordinary in this situation. That is until Frank felt the tug on the cock ring as Gerard hooked the clamp's chain to it and then the tug on the clamps when Gerard pulled down. Frank shouted and leaned down, shocked by the sudden painful pull.

"Do you like it now?" Gerard said, eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Yes. Absolutely yes. If Frank said yes, though, it wouldn't be much of a punishment, would it? Gerard was into humiliation...maybe Frank was supposed to say no, to be uncomfortable? Gerard raised his eyebrows, tugging again on the chain, and Frank moaned painfully.

"You're gonna lose either way," Gerard said, smirking.

"No," Frank decided. Gerard's smile widened and he smacked Frank hard again, knocking the wind out of him. "I-I meant yes."

"What else?"

"Thank you."

Gerard stepped away from Frank and walked to the door, leaving Frank to breathe deeply and attempt to become accustomed to the odd restraints. Gerard opened the hotel room door and Frank stared at him with his eyes wide. Gerard motioned him over and, remembering that Gerard liked opposition during sessions, Frank shook his head.

"Come here," Gerard said sharply. Fuck, Frank loved hearing Gerard speak like that.

Frank took a step, moaning at the tug of the chain. He walked over slowly; Gerard motioned for him to stand just outside, which he did. He looked around, seeing, thankfully, no one. He waited for further instruction, equal parts anxious and exicted.

"Walk down the hall and back," Gerard said.

"I don't want to," Frank said. With a shove, Frank was standing in the middle of the hall, shaking with nerves and red from embarrassment. He looked down at his cock, flush and surprisingly leaking pre-come, then stared down the hall.

"Color?" Gerard asked.

"Green," Frank said softly, nodding that they should continue.

Gerard looked down at his watch. "You have two minutes. Keep your back straight. Go."

The linoleum floor was cold beneath Frank's feet. It was a rather long hallway but still didn't take two minutes to cross. The problem was that every other step, Frank moaned and doubled over and stopped. He'd stand up straight and continue, growing dizzy with the pull on his nipples. He was so uncomfortable and so fucking aroused by it. He continued down the hall at a slow pace he prayed would be under two minutes. At the end, he turned and found that Gerard was no longer at the door. He hunched slightly as he went along, speeding up, until a door to his right opened. He stood up straight immediately, practically shouting, as a woman exited the room.

"Well, hello," the woman said, offering Frank a knowing wink. She had a collar on herself and was wearing a business suit. Her heels clacked as she walked passed Frank and went to the elevator. Frank's face warmed.

Gerard was at the door again, smirking. Frank continued as quickly as he could, perpetually hissing at the pain and now with the knowledge that he was being watched by some stranger. When he was close enough, Gerard looked at his watch. When he stepped over the threshold, he leaned against the wall and double over. Breathing hard. Gerard made him stand up straight with a fist in his hair and Frank reached a hand to Gerard's arm.

"Four minutes," Gerard said. Fuck. "One final assignment before your beating."

Gerard kissed Frank's neck, moved his other hand to Frank's cock. Frank moaned and moved his hand to Gerard's hair, pulling him close. Gerard's hand moved on his cock and Frank's hips moved too; begging for friction, needing to come. But Gerard stopped as suddenly as he'd started and Frank fell against the wall, hunched over. Gerard moved in front of him and, licking his lips, looked up and down his body.

"How are you feeling?" Gerard said in a voice that would be terrifying outside of a session.

"Terrible," Frank lied easily. Another smack and Frank whined, slipping down the wall. Gerard immediately grabbed his arms and helped him up. "I-I feel am-amazing?"

Frank leaned forward, entirely too drained to stay standing on his own. Gerard looked down at him curiously as Frank raised his arms and held him. "Well, you made a mess and I want you to clean it up before your beating," Gerard said, letting his fingers linger as he moved away. Frank moaned. "The bathroom, your clothes. You have four minutes. Go."

Gerard stepped away. Frank stepped forward and had no clue what to do. He saw his trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom and, hunched, slowly moved to them and picked them up. He folded them on the bed one by one, his hands shaking so hard it took longer than it should've, and stacked them there. He looked to Gerard for approval. Gerard nodded his head to Frank's suitcase across the room. "Stand straight," Gerard reminded. Frank stood straight. Shuffled over. Stumbled to the bathroom.

He was slipping and it was making this take longer than it should've. He threw the hanging towels to dry the ground in the bathroom, cried out as he reached to fix the shower curtain, threw the newly dirty towels into the basket for the maid. He stumbled out of the bathroom and looked around then at Gerard for some indication of how he'd done. He hoped he did better with cleaning than with showering or going down the hall. He hoped he pleased Gerard so that they could move on to the promised beating. He hoped he'd made Gerard happy.

There was no sign of that. Gerard's face was clean of emotion. He approached Frank, who kept on staring at him hopefully. His hand reached down, tugging slightly on the chain as he unhooked it from the cock ring. Frank closed his eyes and whined pleasantly. He gasped, letting his mouth hang open, as the clamps were loosened and removed then thrown to the bed. Gerard moved his hands to his waist and, Frank moaned happily when he realized, padded his tongue softly over Frank's pained and hot nipples. This meant he'd done well, right?

Gerard moved away slowly and hit Frank straight across the face, harder than he had all night.

"Nine minutes!" Gerard shouted. Frank shook his head, not understanding the sudden outburst. "Get on your fucking knees, slut. Next to the bed."

Frank turned to the bed, walked over to it slowly (he flinched when he thought it'd hurt to walk too fast), and fell haphazardly to his knees with his hands at the edge of the bed. He was trying to reconcile the affection and the punishment being so close together and realized, abruptly, that this was the first time ever in a session that he'd cried without pain being the main provoker. His hands were shaking violently and he swayed slightly. He was definitely, definitely gone.

"Color," Gerard said.

"Jus' gimme a min..." Frank said, breathing hard and staring at his hands.

" _Color_ ," Gerard demanded.

Frank took a deep breath, sighed. "Yellow."

Gerard was immediately on his knees next to Frank, who repeated what he'd said a moment before but leaned toward Gerard. He moaned with each exhale, the close physical presence relaxing. Just another minute and he'd be ready to go. He just needed to rest a little bit.

"Red," said Gerard, as if admitting defeat.

"No, we don't need to stop," Frank insisted, despite tears visibly going down his red cheeks.

"I need to stop. I need to know you're okay."

Gerard wiped Frank's face with his thumbs, kissed his head, rubbed his back. Frank was so content to have Gerard so near, to be doing this with Gerard, giving himself to him, and he wanted to see this session to the end.

"This is really new to me," Frank croaked, ever so slowly. He could not handle speaking at the moment. He was in the middle of probably the most intense session he'd ever done but he didn't want it to stop. Prior sessions with Gerard were much milder. He just needed to adjust. "I need a minute," Frank said, again, trying to sound confident despite his physical and emotional exhaustion.

"Is there anything you'd like changed?" Gerard asked softly.

"K-keep it coming," Frank said, nodding.

"Want anything?" Frank shook his head. "Water?"

Frank nodded so hard, Gerard actually chuckled. He went away for a distressingly number of seconds, returning with a bottle of water. Frank tilted his head back, mouth open; Gerard first let some water wash over Frank's face, then let it trickle into Frank's mouth. Frank swallowed desperately, coughing and turning away. Gerard held his chin and forced him to drink a little more, to which Frank moaned in appreciation. This was just Gerard, he needed to remember that.

"Green," Frank murmured as Gerard took the bottle away.

He laid his head on the mattress and closed his eyes as Gerard shuffled around.

"You know why you're being punished but Jamia wants you to repeat a few things," said Gerard. "So repeat: You will show the utmost respect to your domme, Jamia."

"I will show the utmost respect to my domme, Jamia," Frank drawled, momentarily swelling with pride.

"You will respect the collar your domme has presented to you..."

"I will respect the collar my domme has presented to me."

"...And you will respect the commitment represented by said collar."

"I will respect the commitment represented by said collar."

The chanting helped to bring Frank back, absolutely, and he was breathing steadily with folded hands as Gerard continued.

"You'll get a lash for every minute of my time you've wasted," Gerard said. Frank looked up. Sure enough Gerard was holding the handle of a whip in his fist, held back over his shoulder like he was ready to strike. "Every time you make a sound, it's another hit," Gerard continued, though Frank wasn't sure exactly how many minutes he'd gone over in each timed task. "That means you do not count aloud and I would prefer it if you didn't count in your head. Got it? Good. Lower your head."

Frank was used to knowing exactly how many hits and having to count them. Being up in the air like this was unnerving but he couldn't really think to do the math anyway. Besides, he trusted Gerard. More than he trusted himself, surely. The whip wasn't as long as Frank expected (only a few feet, by where it stopped just passed Gerard's hip) but it was thin, made of leather, and harder to control than a hand or a paddle. Frank had no doubt in the world that Gerard knew how to handle it. He trusted him entirely.

Head on the mattress, Frank closed his eyes and braced himself. He'd never been whipped before, which was probably the reason for the short instrument and the few hits (it was nowhere near what he could handle with a paddle, he was sure). At any rate, Frank just barely heard the whip shooting through the air before it hit across the middle of his back. He shouted and tensed, clutching the sheets at the sudden sting. Gerard chuckled, likely because Frank just added to the tally after his outburst.

Frank expected the next hit immediately so when it came after a pause, and after he'd relaxed too much, he shouted again. It was just as sharp the second time, maybe more so, and it burned like Frank couldn't believe. He anticipated the next pause and remained quiet at the next hit but his body jolted. He started shaking again, his back burning amazingly. More and more with each hit. One particular hit felt like it was splitting Frank open and he cried out; it was followed almost immediately by another and Frank swore. The next few, sharp intakes of breath; did that count as a sound? Either way, he was shaking and gasping, eyes welling with tears again. He was flying, forgetting not to make a sound and helplessly moaning against each hit. He was so fucking content, relishing in the fire on the skin of his back.

"Frank," said Gerard, like his name was a reprimand.

"Don't stop," Frank said in an exhale, though a part of him was in so much pain it was making him nauseous.

"You've got three more." Frank arched his back and groaned. "Do not make a sound or I'll add five."

Frank sucked in his lips. The last three were quick. The first of the last and Frank merely jumped, every movement of his body seeming to stretch the torn (he thought) skin on his back. The second had his mouth fall open. The last one and he gasped, arching his back, waiting for an inevitable moan to escape. But he held it, somehow, and Gerard set the instrument on the bed.

Frank raised his head weakly, looking at Gerard expectantly. He was unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down. He noticed Frank's look and paused with his cock in his hand.

"Did good?" Frank asked.

It took Gerard a moment but he replied, "Yeah," weakly. Frank smiled, closing his eyes. "Watch me."

Frank watched. It was a fucking sight, Gerard's dick a foot away sliding in his fist. Frank turned slightly, sighing at the pain, and leaned forward. He knew what was about to happen. He held Gerard's thighs, opened his mouth. Gerard got a hand under Frank's jaw, tilted his head back, and kept stroking his own cock as his forced it into Frank's mouth. Frank moaned, sucking in his cheeks, moving his tongue like he knew Gerard liked. It was mostly Gerard, not that Frank had much energy left; he fucked into Frank's mouth, consistently making him gag as he went in too deep - like he had with the dildo - and Frank was gasping around his length, forgetting how to breathe through his nose as drool trailed down his chin. He shut his eyes, scratched Gerard's skin, tried to breathe through his nose keep his throat open focus on the huffs of Gerard's breaths the swears the way he spoke Frank's name over and over like it was a swear too. He sounded so good; Frank looked up and he looked so good, head thrown back and shirt carelessly raised and wrinkling; he felt so tasted so good on Frank's tongue down Frank's throat fuck, fuck Frank couldn't breathe.

Frank moved away sharply, gasping. He stared at Gerard apologetically, hoping this wouldn't earn him another punishment so soon after he'd been doing well, but Gerard was looking at him so admiringly. He stroked Frank's hair and spoke more softly, more like Jamia.

"Tell me you like it," Gerard said.

"I like it," Frank croaked, jaw slack. He moved it around, coughed; he tried to swallow but his voice still came out hoarse. "Fuck, Gerard, like...suckin' your cock, like when you fuck my..."

Belonging to a woman meant no longer getting to suck actual cock, like, hot and heavy cock. So none of what he was saying was untrue. Although he wasn't sure that what he wanted to say had actually come across at all. Gerard seemed pleased enough, smiling a genuine smile before easing passed Frank's lips again. He wasn't any gentler but he moved away from Frank to let him breathe which made it all the more obscene, Gerard's cock balanced on his bottom lip when he took a breath. Frank focused entirely on him: his breaths, his broken voice, his moans; his hand shaking in its grip on Frank's jaw, the way his legs trembled; the weight and length and girth of him, fuck. Frank moaned and Gerard grunted, moving away one last time to stroke his cock over Frank's face. Frank closed his eyes and Gerard moaned softly as he came across Frank's cheek, on his eyelid, on his nose and lips, breathing hard. Frank licked his lips and sat back on his heels, wiping his face on the sheets before leaning against the bed. Frank could not know or care what was happening anymore. He was floating, beyond content, proud and protected and lustful.

"Color?" Gerard asked, sounding too far away.

"I don't..." Frank said tiredly. "The good one, the green."

Gerard chuckled, sounding relieved. "I'm gonna clean your back so you can get in bed."

"Am I bleeding?"

"A little."

Frank smiled, moaned, rubbed his face on the sheets. "May I come, s- Gerard?" Frank asked.

"Not right now," Gerard said. "Face the bed."

Frank turned. He was too far gone to really understand anything. He heard things happening behind him and didn't register them. Three times he reacted: when Gerard told him to relax, which he needed to be told to do because he wanted to come so bad; when Gerard poured something on his stinging back that made him wail, causing Gerard to shush him despite the fact that he laughed immediately after; and when Gerard put the covering on much of his back, patting it down and sticking it to his unhurt skin. He moaned and Gerard told him to get on his back on the bed so he did.

Frank relaxed on the bed and waited. Unexpectedly, Gerard's mouth was on his dick a moment later; Frank curled his aching back, moaned as Gerard looked up at him with dark eyes while sucking him down. Frank clutched the sheets, taking that look from Gerard as an indicator to keep quiet but every second Gerard's tongue and lips and oh god his throat was on him, Frank felt like he was being torn apart at the seams. He got closer and closer to coming but couldn't with the cock ring on and Gerard swallowed around his cock, palmed his balls, licked teasingly into his slit. There was no way in hell Frank could stay quiet through all of that. He cried out, experiencing his pleasure with full abandon as he planted his feet on the bed and twisted; he moved up into Gerard's mouth, earning him a hard smack on the thigh, then down and up again in hopes he'd get another smack. He did and he started swearing at the ceiling, completely unbelieving that he could be lasting this long.

"Please, Gerard," Frank croaked. "God, I can't. I can't."

Between gasps, Frank cried out. Gerard slowed the bobs of his head, moved his hands to Frank's knees, slowly moved his mouth off of Frank with a pop sound. Gerard gingerly slipped the cock ring off of Frank; he was immediately leaking and he curled his back (relishing in the resulting pain), curled his toes, his breath caught in his throat. One touch would do it but the one he got wasn't the one he was hoping for; he about lost it completely when Gerard replaced the cock ring with his two fingers at the base of Frank's cock, still leaning on the bed with his mouth so close.

"Jamia decided that the next person to make you come will be her," Gerard said. Frank groaned, shook his head, raised his hips. Gerard squeezed, lapped at the head of Frank's cock. Frank turned his head from side to side, already feeling himself slipping away from the arousal but fuck that still felt good. "As soon as you calm down, I have a present for you."

Frank took quick, deep breaths, staring at the ceiling with narrowed eyes while his body, mind of its own, shivered and twitched. He was strung out, stretched out, completely separate from himself or maybe too far into himself. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Gerard; his breathing, his other hand stroking Frank's thigh, the brief press of his lips to Frank's stomach. He didn't know how long it took for him to "calm down" but Gerard let him go eventually and walked over to the duffle bag Frank assumed he'd been getting all the tricks for the night from. He walked back with a clear plastic object; some sort of tube and another cock ring? Frank didn't understand until Gerard slipped the ring around the base of Frank's cock, behind the scrotum, and, with a look of pure concentration, started inserting Frank's dick into the tube.

"No, I don't wanna do that," Frank said weakly, unconvincingly. "Tell Jamia no."

It didn't seem to have an effect at all so Frank tried moving away, twisting his body to make Gerard's job difficult. Gerard locked his jaw and brought an elbow down to Frank's thigh, effectively making him stop. He got the chastity cage on Frank, locked and constricting and uncomfortable, and Frank was entirely too overwhelmed to process anything at all. Gerard, pants off now, got into bed and straddled Frank. He twisted Frank's arms in front of him, held them together with one hand, and used the free one to backhand Frank.

"You tryna dig a deeper hole for yourself, slut?" Gerard said. Frank whimpered, god damn tears finding their way to the surface of his eyes again. "Are you fucking crying?"

"I wanna come," Frank said, trying to make it sound like a demand. Another smack and his whole body reacted, curling and tensing as he tried but failed to reach for Gerard.

"No. Fucking dumb slut." Frank shook his head weakly. Gerard combed his hand through Frank's hair but didn't tug as Frank expected. Gerard sighed deeply. "God damn it, you're..." Then they were kissing, Gerard's other hand on Frank's pained cheek. Frank responded slowly, fingers reaching to curl into Gerard's shirt as Gerard leaned closer to him. Gerard's mostly clothed body on top of Frank's nude one, his lips soft and comforting and exactly what Frank needed.

"All you're good for is fucking," Gerard went on and Frank nodded his agreement. He was flying, again, somehow; struck down and staying there, blissful. Gerard kissed all along his face, his neck, his chest. Each word and breath and kiss and sigh was full of longing that Frank only caught because he was feeling it too. Gerard said, "I miss fucking you..." and then Frank lay there, drifting, for a while.

Gerard eventually moved away and Frank moaned, reaching. Gerard shushed him then hummed as he moved around the room. Frank heard sounds he couldn't place and wished with every fiber of his being that Gerard would just come and lay on top of him and whisper more things he shouldn't.

"Frank?" Gerard said, bed dipping as he got on it. Frank turned, offered Gerard a hand, stared at him in slight confusion. "Hey, baby. Come back to me. We're done." Frank's eyebrows went up. He breathed steadily. He felt too hot and too cold. "I need to clean you up, okay?"

Gerard presented Frank with a bottle of water and helped him drink it in partitioned sips. Then he had a damp towel, which he brought gingerly to Frank's chest. The coolness awakened Frank slowly, chilled his skin, made the sweat get lost. Frank watched Gerard with intrigue, expecting but not expecting more as he stared at Frank with his eyebrows furrowed like he was doing a difficult math problem.

"You've..." Gerard started. He cleared his throat and looked into Frank's eyes for the next part. "You did very well and you made me happy."

Obviously Jamia had taught him how to praise in order to curtail to Frank's specific need, at least as part of the aftercare. It wasn't something Gerard would normally do on his own. But Frank swelled with pride anyway. "Even when I said yellow?" Frank asked timidly.

"Especially when you said yellow," Gerard replied. Frank smiled so wide, the residual heat from his cheeks nearly made his teeth ache.

After the application of things to make all Frank's body went through slightly less jarring, Gerard sat against the wall on the bed with Frank, still floating but much more alert, cuddled close to his leg. The session with Gerard had definitely helped but it wasn't something Frank could get used to or do often. This was why he'd gone with Jamia and not Gerard. Jamia knew Frank better than he knew himself. Gerard was always learning. Why wait when you've already found the perfect one?

They hadn't had a session in so long that Frank almost forgot how distant Gerard got after. It wasn't something Frank knew how to handle, fresh out of subspace. But he thought about Mikey's comment and realized, abruptly, that Gerard likely needed aftercare as much as Frank. Or maybe he just needed to be alone. At any rate, Frank moved closer to his thigh; he needed closer right now, he would burst if he didn't get closer. He wouldn't sleep until much later when Gerard laid down and wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. Gerard took a deep breath.

"Wanna do the briefing now?" Gerard asked.

"Tomorrow," Frank murmured. "Sleep now."

So they slept, Frank feeling better than he had in a long while.


End file.
